(A continuation from the last blog – Ron had a small heart attack.  The scene opens with Ron and Bonnie in a hospital room.)

In the morning we waited FOREVER (until 9:45) for the people in white to take Ron to the Cath Lab for the Angiogram. [Have you noticed that now hospital personnel wear a variety of bright colors and wild prints?  One can hardly take them seriously anymore.]  We were both hungry.  Ron wanted the angiogram over as soon as possible so he could eat and I wanted Ron to leave so I could go to the café and get breakfast.  When they came to get Ron, I followed the delicious aromas and piled a huge breakfast on the tray.  They are very sneaky in hospital cafés.  You don’t see a menu with the price next to a meal.  You just see food, food, food everywhere!  I took a little from here, a little from there, and a little from here again.  When I took the tray to the check-out, that’s when it was added up, and a bit more than I would have normally spent.

After I waited in the little waiting niche, the young doctor came out of the angiogram room to describe in detail what happened during the catheter’s wandering.  One of the arteries that comes all the way around to the bottom of the heart, had a 90% clog in it.  They blew that out with the balloon and then inserted the stent (a tube that opened up the artery so the blood can easily flow). Apparently, the angiogram becomes an angioplasty when they actually DO something while wandering around with the camera in the arteries.

Back in our Room Sweet Room, Ron had to lie flat on his back for 4 hours, not moving anything but his arms and head.  And that was enough to see him through his lunch (he hadn’t eaten in 16 hours).  Since he had to eat while lying down, he was forced to order the sirloin steak to be cut in pieces, green beans, potato salad, wheat roll, fresh veggies, tapioca and an oatmeal cookie.  It’s amazing!  One can order food by calling room service, just like a nice hotel.  Gone are the days when the meal trays were pushed in, presenting red or green Jello. Later, I had great fun ordering my dinner off the Guest Menu.

I had my last night of almost sleeping on the padded bench in Ron’s room (hard enough to make my hips sore).  It’s a good thing I was available to hop up and help him do any business during the night.  (It takes too long to get a nurse there when one is desperate).  That night we were only awakened about 15 times by helpful nurses (who are only there when you DON’T need them).  Once I was awake when a nurse came in to find Ron peacefully sleeping, creating a light, delicate snore.  He rudely awakened Ron to take some blood and then asked, “Are you feeling any pain?”  Duh—he was pain free a minute ago while sleeping!

Because millions of our friends had been praying and our Awesome God was listening, the next morning  (Father’s Day) the doctor came in to tell Ron he was free to go. [Our daughter and son had both called to wish their Dad a Happy Father’s Day.]  After hanging out in various hospitals since Thursday, we were finally going home.  That was the most unusual Father’s Day gift Ron had ever received.  Because he had a very wimpy heart attack, his only restrictions were to not lift heavy stuff for a while.  This means he couldn’t carry me over our threshold as I’d planned.  Oh well, it was only a fleeting romantic thought.

Naturally after all this turmoil in Ron’s body, he was quite fatigued.  One of his malapropisms fits quite well:

“I’m tired.  I think I’ll hit the deck.”